


Ask A Stupid Question

by desdemona (LydiaOfNarnia)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 09:08:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6797836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydiaOfNarnia/pseuds/desdemona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started because Momoi and Kuroko were tired of being considered the "innocent ones" among the Generation of Miracles. Kuroko, in his infinite wisdom, decided that if they were going to be given the reputation, they might as well take advantage of it.</p><p>It was the worst idea of their lives.</p><p>Written for Day Four of Momoi Satsuki Week 2016! Prompt: "Innocence"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ask A Stupid Question

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this on May 8, but the formatting fucked up by a lot, so I had to fix it and trip load. Thanks, ao3.

It starts as an alliance borne of joint frustration: Momoi and Kuroko are tired of being considered the “innocent ones”.

There’s Kise, of course, whose head is half-filled with helium and glitter most days. But Kise is more of an airhead than he is actually innocent. With all the girls he has fawning over him, no one can really imagine that he hasn’t had at least some experience with sex (Momoi knows for a fact that this isn’t true; Kise had confided in her that the most he’d ever done with a girl was kiss her, and he was actually a bit intimidated by the idea of going any further). People don’t bite their tongues around Kise. No one whacks Aomine for making a blatantly sexual joke while Kise is around. No one looks at _Kise_ delicately, as if he’s some type of pure little child who has to be protected.

Frankly, Momoi is sick of it. When she finds a kindred spirit in her dearest Tetsu-kun, she’s more than overjoyed.

And then best part is that Kuroko already has a plan. It’s simplistic, easy, and positively genius; Momoi doesn’t think she could come up with a better one if she tried.

“Midorin, where do babies come from?”

Admittedly, asking the shooting guard right in the middle of lunch is probably a step up the cruelty scale. Momoi can’t help but feel bad, especially when Midorima’s face turns an alarming shade of red and she begins to wonder if he is silently choking to death on his chicken.

Midorima’s expression doesn’t change -- there isn’t a twitch of an eye, a clench of a jaw, nothing except his cherry shaded face to betray his obviously burning discomfort. This in itself is a testament to his remarkable self-control; but faced with two sets of wide, innocently blinking eyes, even Midorima can’t help but falter.

“Uh,” he says, pushing his glasses high up the bridge of his nose. He does this when he’s nervous, Momoi knows, and from the way he tries to keep pushing them for a split second after the rims are already digging into his forehead she realizes he’s very, very nervous indeed.

So, Midorima does what he always does whenever he’s uncomfortable with a situation; he switches into Detached Apathetic mode. (Mentally, Momoi has nicknamed this his “ _Holier-Than-Thou_ ” mode, but she will never tell Midorima that because he might actually take it seriously). His expression goes hard and stern, and in that moment the two devious minds can tell they are in for a lecture.

“I am under _no_ obligation to tell you that. If you’re going around asking questions of that nature, you should stop approaching people at random and get your information from a more reliable source. Try a book. Or even the internet, if you _have_ to know. Don’t ask me without any warning.”

Kuroko tilts his head. “Is Midorima-kun saying that we frightened him?”

Now Midorima actually does choke, and on nothing but air too -- it’s sort of extraordinary. “I didn’t say that!”

“You aren’t denying it.”

“I wasn’t scared!” He tries pushing his glasses up again, but they’re just where he left them the last time, so he only winds up making indentations against his skin. Momoi has to press a hand over her mouth to muffle her giggles, but Kuroko is still impressively stone-faced.

“I see,” he says with a solemn nod. “Thank you, Midorima-kun.”

He turns on his heel, Momoi hurrying in his wake with one last shouted goodbye to Midorima. Behind them, she can hear an impressive amount of muttering, something about “daily rankings and bad karma” (she also thinks she catches the word “idiots” in there too, but wants to give Midorima the benefit of the doubt).

She glances at Kuroko, and he hardly looks fazed -- but for a slight upward quirk of his lips, that only widens slightly when he glances over and catches her eye. Momoi can’t fight off her own grin.

They’re only getting started.

...

“Ehhh?”

It’s a credit to Murasakibara that he actually picks his head up to look at them; he hadn’t bothered when they’d approached him, and certainly hadn’t looked pleased to be interrupted during his lunch break nap. He hardly looks more interested now, but at least he’s _looking_ at them -- that’s a start.

Murasakibara’s long fingers deftly pull a piece of candy out of the bag sitting next to him. He pops it in his mouth and chews boredly for a few seconds before finally answering. “I dunno… sex, I guess? That’s how my mom and dad made me… I don’t really care.”

He settles back down again, obviously expecting this conversation to be over. Momoi fights back a huff, displeased at being so blatantly brushed off, and elbows Kuroko subtly in the side. Kuroko never strays from a challenge.

“Murasakibara-kun, do you know where it is that babies grow?”

Murasakibara’s eye (a _single_ eye, as if opening them both at once would be too much effort) cracks open. If it’s possible to roll just one eye, he manages it. “Even _I_ know that. The babies grow in the mom’s belly, the same place where the snacks go.”

This… isn’t right. Momoi knows this isn’t right, Kuroko knows this isn’t right, and they both exchange a brief look of horror at the realization that Murasakibara genuinely believes this is right. The purple giant is still going on.

“I’d rather have snacks in my belly, though. They taste better. Babies don’t taste good at all.”

That, both pranksters agree, is a very good cue to bail out of this conversation -- as quickly as possible.

...

They almost feel bad pranking Nijimura. He puts up with enough; he doesn’t deserve this, he really doesn’t. However, the whole point of this endeavor isn’t to be good people, so they both go through with it anyway, and the look on their captain’s face is just about worth it.

“... I am not answering that.” Nijimura looks like he needs a cup of tea, a long nap, and a life-long vacation from anything involving the Generation of Miracles. He looks like that a lot, however, so Momoi isn’t really alarmed. “I’m not. Don’t any of you have your own parents?”

It’s a low blow, but Momoi can’t resist. “But you take such good care of Aomine-kun -- we thought you were the team dad now!”

If it’s possible for a middle school boy to look like he’s seen the depths of war, Nijimura’s there. The expression that crosses over his face suggests that he’s been through hell, made it back alive, and has just been told he has to return again. The look of horror on his face is so picturesque that Momoi almost wishes she had a camera handy, just to immortalize it. (Maybe, she thinks, she’s been spending too much time around Tetsu-kun; she’s starting to get a little evil).

“No!” Nijimura’s voice rises in pitch and volume; he takes a step back, then another step, hands in the air. “I’m not! Go… ask your real parents! The coach! Hell, ask _Aomine_ , just don’t ask me!”

Kuroko’s head tilts comically, a little bit like a dog, and he opens his mouth to say something; Nijimura cuts him off by abruptly turning on his heel and power-walking away as if he never wants anything to do with them ever, ever again.

“Hmm,” he remarks, unfazed as ever. “That went well.”

...

They decide to take Nijimura’s advice, and ask Aomine next. They find him, unsurprisingly, splayed out and napping in the spot he and Momoi (and sometimes Kuroko) usually eat together. When he hears them approaching he picks his head up from the pavement, brow furrowing in irritation at their impromptu appearance.

“So,” he drawls. “You finally decided to show up.”

Kuroko cuts right to the chase. Momoi feels a pang of affection for his tenacity. “Aomine-kun, where do babies come from?”

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Aomine… doesn’t take this well. He mimics Midorima in actually starting to choke on air, even though Momoi’s pretty sure that at one point he actually begins to gag on his own tongue. It takes him long enough to recover that she crosses her arms, sighing down at him, while Kuroko gets distracted by a few birds flying overhead. By the time Aomine finally manages to catch his breath, they’re both bored.

“The hell would you ask that for, Tetsu?”

“He’s not the only one asking,” puts in Momoi helpfully. “I want to know too.”

“Ohh, that’s just bullshit Satsuki, I know your mom had that talk with you…” A flicker of uncertainty crosses Aomine’s midnight blue orbs. “She did, right?”

Momoi shrugs.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake --”

“Language, Aomine-kun.”

Aomine looks ready to shoot back something just as vulgar and venmous, but he thinks better of it and manages to bite his tongue. It’s obvious that he’s panicking. Aomine isn’t half as subtle as Midorima or as apathetic as Murasakibara, and his utter bafflement at the question reads clear on his face. It Momoi didn’t know better, she’d almost think Aomine was as lost as they were pretending to be.

It takes him a minute of obvious panic as he tries to figure out what to do; Kuroko and Momoi are patient. Finally he seems to settle on something, and with a long-suffering sigh draws out his cell phone.

“Here,” he mutters, eyes narrowed. “I’m not gonna be the one to tell you about all that. You should go ask Midorima or something.”

“We already did,” Kuroko replies, plucking the phone from Aomine’s hands.

“Did he know?” Momoi nods, and Aomine’s eyebrows creep up his forehead. “Huh. I’m not gonna tell you guys that, but just… open up the phone, I know you know the password Tetsu, open it up…”

Kuroko does, fingers flying over the screen rapidly. Momoi finds herself actually curious, even if her instinct is yelling at her quite loudly that no good can come of this. Sex education with Aomine was a thing she’d never wanted to think about, and honestly thought she’d never have to.

As usual, her intuition is right. As soon as Kuroko opens up the phone, sounds of grunting and a drawn out moan pierce the air. The boy’s blue eyes widen; his knuckles turn white around the cell phone’s screen.

“Oh, harder, harder!” the woman in the video moans, while Momoi lets out a shriek and aims a kick at Aomine’s shin. The boy takes the hit with the experience of one who is all too used to it, smirking as Kuroko’s already pale skin turns paler.

“At least you’ll learn something,” he quips. On screen, Momoi can hear what sounds like the crack of a whip, and decides she really doesn’t want to know. (It also occurs to her that Aomine had not had his headphones plugged into the phone. She stores this information in the back of her head for later, even though she’s sure it’s yet another thing she really doesn’t want to think about.)

Kuroko, apparently, is of the same mindset as Momoi. Wordlessly, he switches the phone off; handing it back to Aomine, his expression is grim.

“Aomine-kun,” he says flatly, “this is disgusting.”

Aomine grins.

...

Momoi could have guessed that asking Kise would be a bad idea. But after their educational experience with Aomine, she figures that they need someone a bit less… (“Perverted?” Kuroko suggests, and she can only nod her head. _Perverted_ is the perfect word.)

It’s almost like a warzone fighting their way through the fanclub clustered around Kise’s desk; there’s a reason they rarely see him at lunch time, she realizes now, and it’s because Kise essentially becomes a prisoner to hordes of teenage girls. A willing prisoner, apparently, but a prisoner nonetheless. He can no more escape than they can get through, at least Kuroko somehow manages to slip straight through the crowd like a ghost and politely request “a word”. At Kise’s beckoning, his fanclub disperses like pesky flies, and it dawns on Momoi that Kise probably isn’t as trapped as she’d assumed.

She should have known better than to think it would be easy. Kise is airheaded, and a virgin, but he’s not stupid.

“You really want to know that?” he asks, blinking doe-ishly wide golden eyes up at them in an expression Momoi figures mirrors the default innocent ones she and Kuroko are wearing. “Huh. Okay then, if you’re so curious, I can tell you!”

She and Kuroko exchange a look. Flashbacks of Aomine play over in their heads; she can feel her stomach sink.

“Okay, so when a man and a woman love each other very much… they have sex! And when they have sex -- oh, you guys can sit down, it’s kind of a long story -- so when they have sex, then…”

Momoi and Kuroko slide into chairs, exchanging regretful glances. Somehow, Momoi thinks, death would have come quicker if they’d just asked Akashi.

...

They don’t actually get around to asking Akashi until afternoon practice; to no one’s surprise, Kise could talk the ear off a stone statue, and the rest of their lunch period is taken up by very colorful descriptions of the anatomy of human reproductive systems, what happens when sperm get sent on their way, and how an egg is fertilized. Kise is more knowledgeable than their health teacher, and by the time he’s finished Momoi is certain even Kuroko’s face is burning. (A part of her is convinced that Kise knows damn well they’re messing with him, and decided to do it right back. She doesn’t want to think her friend could be that cruel.)

They corner Akashi outside of the gym right before practice. He doesn’t look surprised to see them; when Kuroko blurts out the question, he looks even less surprised. He looks as if he’s been expecting this. (Momoi later reflects that Midorima probably told him about his own questioning and Akashi had figured things out from there; that, or Akashi had just been eagerly anticipating the day someone would ask him this question. She prefers to accept the former theory, but she also knows Akashi.)

“You see,” Akashi says, taking on a self-important stance that somehow makes him seem much more mature than the both of them, “when a man and woman experience a degree of sexual and physical attraction, they can decide to copulate. There are methods of birth control that can be used to prevent a pregnancy from occurring, but either they foolishly decide to forego precautions, or something goes _wrong_ \-- you can ask Aomine, his parents know all about this -- and a pregnancy can occur. A baby is created when…”

He goes on. And on. He goes on more than Kise, which is a feat that has to be admired, especially since Akashi has always been the sort of person who finds the most power in brevity. By the time he’s finished, Momoi feels sick to her stomach. Glancing over at Kuroko, she find him glaze-eyed and open mouthed; she’s pretty sure his soul physically departed from his body about halfway through Akashi’s long-winded explanation. Apparently taking their silence as comprehension, the ruby eyed boy claps his hands and gives them a small smile.

“I was glad to help,” he says, though neither of them had actually thanked him; and then, he brushes past them, and into the gym.

Momoi looks at Kuroko; Kuroko looks at Momoi. There are no words that can be exchanged.

...

Momoi keeps a chronicle of the gifts she and Kuroko receive at practice the next day, though she is very careful not to keep any of them herself. She doesn’t know what Kuroko winds up doing with them. She doesn’t want to know.

The first present is from Nijimura, as soon as she and Kuroko step into the gym; he presses a book into Kuroko’s hands without a word, gives them a solemn nod, and promptly walks away. _Where Do Babies Come From?,_ the book’s title blares in bright lettering. Discovering the Miracle of Life -- For Kids!

“Oh,” she says hollowly.

Kuroko finds a DVD copy of _The Miracle of Life_ inside of his locker, and Midorima won’t meet either of their eyes for the rest of the day. Kise runs up to Momoi when he’s supposed to be doing sprints, and she’s forced to witness a very graphic cell phone video of Kise’s cousin during actual labor -- somehow it manages to be even more disturbing than Kise’s entire explanation, though it doesn’t quite measure up to Akashi’s. (After Akashi’s, she thinks, she can endure _anything_.) Kuroko’s teeth are bared in a grimace when he opens his gym bag to find a roll of condoms stuffed inside, and then sees Aomine wink at him from across the court. Murasakibara approaches them at the end of practice, toting a bag of potato chips; very seriously, he hands a single chip to Kuroko and another one to Momoi, “to never ask me that question again.” They both nod, recognizing the rarity of Murasakibara sharing his snacks for what it is, and try not to think about what has to be coming next.

That’s when they turn and see Akashi strolling down the hall with a bundle of DVDs and posters lung under his arm. He is wearing a look of focused determination; behind him, he drags a rolling bulletin board which clearly bears several detailed visual graphics of the human reproductive system. Catching sight of them at the other end of the hallway, he waves.

Kuroko and Momoi do the only logical thing, and run for their lives.

“Momoi-san,” Kuroko says later, crouched in a supply closet and trying not to imagine Akashi standing just outside the door with his visual graphics and a benign smile on his face, “we have made a terrible mistake.”


End file.
